Doug Feng grinned as he snatched the little note from Linda's hand, sneaking a glance at the final three digits before she could snatch it back.
"08, 25, 06."
Bingo! That's it! he thought excitedly. He etched the numbers into his memory, then casually handed the slip to Zhang Caijie—the class's resident lottery maniac. Doug managed to do the same trick with Zhang's note, catching the first three digits: "01, 13, 31."
That's all six winning numbers for this week's Double Color Ball, Doug thought, his heart thumping. 08, 25, 06, 01, 13, and 31. All that's missing is the special bonus ball… Damn, why can't I remember it?
The frustrating part was, that seventh number—the bonus ball—had been picked by his past self. He'd even bragged about it the next day, but now it was just a fog in his brain.
No matter, Doug thought. I'll just buy tickets covering every possible bonus number from 01 to 16. That way, I'll hit the jackpot once and rake in at least fifteen second prizes too!
Resolved, he scribbled the six numbers in tiny print at the corner of his workbook, then carefully folded the page and stuffed it deep into the pocket of his jeans.
Afternoon classes dragged on, but Doug was floating in a daydream. In his head, he was already living the billionaire life—Ferraris, yachts, and maybe a beachfront villa in Bali. Who needs college when you're richer than the principal?
The final bell rang, jolting him from his fantasy. As he gathered his books, Ms. Qing Fang—their English teacher—called out from the front, "Doug Feng, please come to my office for a moment."
Doug blinked. Again? What's with this teacher dragging me to her office every day? A wicked grin crept onto his face as his mind wandered briefly to yesterday's… incident. His gaze dipped toward her curves before catching himself.
The number above her head—courtesy of his affection system—was now a dull gray "1." Interesting… So used favor points aren't lost permanently? They're just temporarily grayed out? Maybe they recharge over time…
Doug followed Ms. Fang to her office—the same one as yesterday. His eyes flicked to the paper cup on the desk, still half-full, with water from their awkward encounter. She noticed his gaze, blushed, and quickly chucked the cup into the bin.
Clearing her throat, she turned serious. "Doug Feng, what's going on in that head of yours? And this morning—I heard from Director Qiu that you got into a fight in front of the school gate. Is that true?"
Ah, here we go. The guy not only gave me a demerit but wants me chewed out by my homeroom teacher too? Typical Qiu Guohua. Doug's smile vanished.
"Ms. Fang, it's not what you think. That guy Lin Yi—you know what kind of scumbag he is. I didn't go looking for a fight."
"You fought Lin Yi?" Her brows shot up. Even Qing Fang, fresh out of teacher's college, had heard of Lin Yi's reputation. No one dared to mess with him—not even the principal. For Doug Feng to lay a hand on him?
Before she could ask more, there was a polite knock at the door.
"Come in," she called.
It was Linda.
"Ms. Fang," she said, stepping inside with a nervous glance toward Doug. "I came to clarify something about this morning…"
Doug stared as Linda, her voice steady and righteous, recounted everything—how Lin Yi had been harassing her, how Doug had tried to protect her, how Lin Yi's cronies had ganged up on him and even tried to humiliate him. "Doug only hit him back in self-defense, and it wasn't even serious! He's the one who's been wronged!"
Doug stood there stunned. His heart swelled. Damn… she really came to back me up.
Qing Fang sighed and nodded. "Alright. Thanks for telling me, Linda. You both head back to class now. I'll speak with Director Qiu myself. Don't worry, Doug—I may be your teacher, but I believe you. I won't let this stain your record unjustly."
Doug and Linda left the room. As they did, Doug caught Qing Fang picking up the office phone and dialing.
He lingered just outside, his enhanced hearing picking up every word.
"Hello, Director Qiu? This is Qing Fang, Doug Feng's homeroom teacher. About this morning's incident… I believe there's been a misunderstanding. Doug didn't instigate anything. He was just protecting a classmate from harassment."
But Qiu Guohua's voice came sharp and smug through the receiver. "Ms. Fang, you're still young. I've been in student affairs for decades. I can read students like an open book. I saw what happened. There's no need for further discussion."
"But Director Qiu," she tried again, more gently this time, "a disciplinary demerit follows a student for life. Shouldn't we be absolutely sure before we—"
"No need for melodrama. I've already spoken to Lin Yi personally. He confirmed everything. It's settled."
There was a pause.
Then, Qiu's tone shifted, oozing something more… insidious.
"Still, if you insist, Ms. Fang, perhaps we can sit down and talk this over properly. You remember Mr. Liu Chengyan, right? The philanthropist I mentioned last time? He's been very interested in donating some new student computers to the school. And, well, he hasn't stopped talking about how impressed he was with your dedication—grading papers until 3 a.m., I hear?"
Doug's eyes narrowed.
Qiu continued, "He asked if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Just to talk over the donation, of course. I'm sure it'll be… educational."
Doug clenched his fists. So this was it. The old man wasn't just power-tripping—he was trying to pimp out his own teacher for some sponsorship clout!
Looks like I've got more than just a lottery win to handle. This school's got rot all the way up to the top.
And for the first time, Doug wasn't scared.
He was furious. And he had a plan.